Page 200 - Till the Last Breath . . .

Her body was aching by the time it was evening. There was a huge scar that

ran down her spine where they had opened her and stitched her back up. It
pained. Throughout the day, she used the pain as an excuse to avoid having
conversations with anyone around. It was strange that even Dushyant

wanted to talk to her that day and was in fact very persistent in his
endeavour. Why today? Restless and anxious, a million questions bounced

back and forth in her head. A date in a hospital robe? She tried not to think
about it and the more she tried, the more she ended up thinking about the

same. There was a small cursory nerve conduction test she was made to
undergo during the day and though it had not shown any signs of

improvement, she hadn’t worsened either. A few times, she got down from
her bed and checked if she could walk on her own.
She couldn’t.

Her legs were nothing but useless rubber-like extensions to her body
which served no purpose whatsoever. A few laboured steps and she was

panting as if she had been running. With her legs worthless, other parts of
her body were following suit. The operation was still to show any effects.

Inside her heart, she had just one prayer—let today be great and I will
happily die. After trying a little more to walk with the crutches, she gave

up. Once back in the comfort of her bed, she realized she had nothing to
hide from Arman. If there was anyone who knew how far the disease had
progressed, it was him. They were in this together.

They were supposed to meet at eleven in the night, when everyone else
would have slept. Time had slowed down. From eight in the evening, she

had glanced at her watch every few minutes, hoping time would move
along faster. 9. 10. 10.30. 10.45. The closer it got, the farther it seemed. In

the last ten minutes, she sprayed perfume over herself and brushed her hair
the best she could. There was a limit to things she could do and in all

honesty, she liked that. It was simple.
Her eyes never left the door, waiting for her knight in shining armour—in
her case, a knight with a stethoscope around his neck—to take her away.

Her heart was literally throbbing and it was no longer just an expression.
The electrodes and the monitors that measured the beating of her heart